In The Middle of Me

I am standing in the Middle of Me. I am dark and gloomy. All the feelings are Churning, Roiling, Colliding within the confines of my visceral Core. I am not lost or confused and I am not sleeping. Rather, I am Quiet; immersed in the other-world of Liquid Dreams that reside somewhere in the Middle of Me. All this time, so many years, I've been looking outside of myself for THAT answer, any answer. All this time, too many moments, I've scanned the horizon, the one way, far away, over there, AWAY from me. Anywhere, as long as it was in the Without of Me. But it's loud out there. It's so loud I could not hear myself think. That's the thing about thinking. It happens inside; somewhere Inside of Me. It happens in the Middle of Me where it's Quiet. Not silent, mind you, but Quiet like the Quiet of the perfect library. One of those old libraries that smells of a mixture of paper and ink, warm bindings fading incrementally amidst the layers of sun and dust. In this Middle of Me are Parcels and Pages and Whispers and single Words Waiting for Connection. I've been so busy, I haven't really noticed the way I should have noticed; stopping, stooping, bending to get a little closer to all that gallimaufry of delight that is all the pieces of the Enigma that is Me. Isn't this exactly what I had always said I wanted? Isn't this the Wonderland of Eccentricities and Diversity, the very future that I had dreamed of one day so very long ago? On all the days I ever laid my back down against the earth, gazing longingly into the sky and felt, really felt, a future rising up from somewhere within the Middle of Me. All those little pieces, like Wool, like Satin, like Purple; and all those little words like Love, like Music, like Laughter, like Knowing and Being and Doing and Having and Needing and Wanting....phew! Just a smattering one Layer, one Edge....here, right HERE in the very Middle of Me.